Attachment to our Country.—When Gulliver was in Lilliput, he lay down to sleep. In the morning he found himself fastened down to the earth by a thousand little cords which the Lilliputians had thrown over him. Every man is thus attached to some spot on earth by the thousand small threads which habit and association are continually throwing around him. Of these, perhaps, one of the strongest is that which makes us love the place where our fathers are entombed. When the Canadian Indians were once solicited to emigrate, “What!” they replied, “shall we say to the bones of our fathers, ‘Arise, and go with us into a foreign land?’”
The Fox and the Tortoise;
A FABLE, TO SHOW THE ADVANTAGES OF HONESTY.
A fox that had been robbing some hen-roosts, and had therefore excited the indignation of the people, was one day pursued by a party of hunters, and sorely pressed by their hounds. At last he came to a secluded spot, and having for the time eluded his enemies, he sat down to take breath. Near by there chanced to be a tortoise, and as birds and beasts always talk in fables, it was a matter of course that the two animals on the present occasion should fall into conversation.
“You seem,” said the tortoise, “to be very much out of breath: pray let me ask you what is the matter?”
“Matter enough!” replied the fox. “I occasionally slip into the farmers’ hen-roosts, and take away a few of their fowls, or now and then I carry off a fat goose or a stray lamb; and behold, I am hunted by all people with all their hounds, as if I was the greatest rascal on the face of the earth! Whew! how hot I am. These villanous hounds put me in a terrible tremor. One of them came so close as to snap at my throat with his long ugly teeth, and I really thought my last hour was come. What a terrible life it is I lead: I cannot stir abroad but some hound is on my track, or some bullet whistles near my heart. Even in my den of rocks I have no peace, for I am ever dreaming of the sound of muskets or the baying of hounds.”
As the fox said this, the cry of the hunters and their hounds came near, and to save his life, he was again obliged to take to flight. The humble tortoise, observing all this, remarked very wisely, as follows: “How much better it is to be honest and content with what we can call our own, than to be forever running after forbidden pleasures, thus drawing down upon ourselves the enmity of mankind, and all the disquietude of a guilty conscience.”